Struggles of a Transbian Author

24 | She/They | Austria | Queer and Proud

[tanadrin]

And God said, "Behold! I have created the fourth primordial force: the weak interaction!"

And the angels all clapped and nodded politely, and there was a long silence; and finally Verchiel, the Angel of Grace, spoke up and asked, "Er, what exactly does it do, O Fashioner?"

And God said, "What do you mean, 'what does it do?' It's the fourth fundamental force of the universe."

And Verchiel said, "You mentioned that. Um. But it's just that the other three sort of have a brand, you know? Gravity helps build large-scale structures, acts over vast cosmic distances, shapes time and space. The strong force is secret, hidden, binding together quarks and all that. Electromagnetism, very cool stuff, somewhere in between. We're all big fans of the whole magnetic monopole double bluff, very clever. But, er. What does this 'weak interaction' do?"

And God said, "It mediates radioactive decay. Sort of."

And Verchiel said, "Radioactive decay? All radioactive decay?"

And God said, "No. Just some kinds."

And Zephaniel, the Chief of the Ishim spoke, and he said, "A whole independent force just to mediate some kinds of radioactive decay?"

And God said, "Well. Not totally independent. Technically it's related to electromagnetism."

And Zephaniel said, "Wait, it's not even a real force?"

And God said, "It's totally a real force. It's just that it's one aspect of a combined electromagnetic and weak force. An electro-weak force, if you will."

And Metatron, the Celestial Scribe, scratched his head at this, but said nothing.

And Cambiel, the Angel of Transformation, said, "Maybe you can walk us through it from the top."

And God Sighed an immense Sigh, and said, "All right, fine.

"So the way it works is that all of space and time is permeated by a field that has imaginary mass."

And Cambiel said, "Imaginary mass, O Generous Provider?"

And God said, "Yes, imaginary mass. It's tachyonic, d'you see?"

And Sarathiel, the Angel of Discipline, said, "Wait a minute, I thought we agreed nothing was going to travel faster than light? All that 'c' business and the whole Lorentz transformation thing. What's happening with that?"

And God said, "Let me finish. The field is tachyonic. The particles in the field all move slower than light."

And Sarathiel had to think about this for a second.

And God said, "The point is, a field with imaginary mass has a non-zero vacuum expectation value."

And this really gave Sarathiel trouble, since he had never been very good at math.

And God, seeing this, went back to explain. "Most fields, like the electromagnetic field, have no effect when they are at their lowest energy state. It's like they're not there at all. If you give a field imaginary mass, then it vanishes only when it's at a very high energy state, and at a low energy state, it has a nonzero value everywhere."

And Sarathiel nodded, but he was confused, because he didn't understand why God would create such a thing.

But Verchiel thought he saw where God was going with this, and he was amazed.

"Truly, you are cunning beyond measure, O Only One Certainly Sound and Genuine in Truth! Only now do I understand your design! For in order to make the universe homogenous and isotropic, it is necessary that all large-scale fluctuations in temperature and mass must be evened out early in the history of the cosmos; and therefore, you have designed a field which will rapidly expand space after the Big Bang, many orders of magnitude in brief moments, and then swiftly and spontaneously decay as it gives up the energy it began with, giving rise to radiation and particles of all kinds as it does, which will condense into the material universe! It is a wonder to behold."

And God said, "What? No. I mean I did, but this isn't the inflaton field I'm talking about. This is something else."

And Verchiel said, "Wait, it's not?"

And God said, "No, I'm going to use a different field to drive cosmic inflation. The properties of this field are totally different."

And now Verchiel was also confused, and lapsed into silence.

And God said, "Like I was saying, this field is a scalar field with imaginary mass, and it does spontaneously decay to a ground state with a non-zero value. But it's not the inflaton field. Instead it combines with the W1, W2, W3, and B bosons."

And Metatron began to flip back through the pages of the Heavenly Record trying to figure out where he'd lost the thread.

And Zephaniel said, "The what bosons?"

And God said, "The W1, W2, W3, and B bosons. I'm sure I mentioned them. You know, the massless bosons?"

And Zephaniel said, "I'm pretty sure we only talked about the W+, W-, and Z0 bosons. All of which you said were going to have mass, O Owner of All Sovereignty."

And God said, "Yes, but this is how they get them, you see. Once this field acquires a nonzero value everywhere, the massless bosons interact with it and get mass. Well, some of them do. They turn into the W+, W-, and Z0 boson. And the photon."

And Zephaniel said, "…and the photon, O Accepter of Invocation?"

And God said, "Well, I did say I was going to unify the electromagnetic force and the weak interaction, didn't I? This is how. Above the critical temperature--right now I'm thinking 10^15 K, but I'm open to feedback on that one--electromagnetism and the weak force act as a single unifying force. Below that temperature, the field gets a nonzero value, you get three massive bosons to mediate the weak interaction, and the photon pops out seperately."

And Zephaniel said, "That seems… a bit overly complicated, doesn't it, O Reinstater Who Brings Back All?"

And God said, "No, it's exactly what we need. Look, that way the W and Z bosons have something to do, but the weak interaction still only travels short distances. Gravity is still the star of the show on cosmic scales, as it were. But now quarks and leptons can swap their flavor!"

And Zephaniel said, rather weakly, "Their… flavor, O Source of Good?"

And God said, "It's this new quantum number I'm trying out, to give the three generations of matter more unique identities."

And Cambiel said, "Three generations of matter? Now I'm really confused."

And God said, "I'm sure I mentioned this. You've got the lightest quarks and leptons, and then two heavier versions of each that can decay into the lighter versions."

And Cambiel said, "What do they do? New kinds of chemistry, is it?"

And God said, "Well, no. Mostly they just decay in a couple microseconds. Or even faster."

And Zephaniel began to rub his temples, and Cambiel sniffed.

And Cambiel said, "This all seems a bit ad hoc to me. Not really the stuff of an elegant and obviously ordered Creation. Why not have four generations of matter? Why not a trillion?"

And God began to grow irritable, and said, "Well, that's not really up to you, now is it? We're going to have three generations of matter, and the electroweak force, and that's that!"

And Zephaniel said, "As long as we are unifying fundamental forces, perhaps we could somehow also unify the electroweak interaction with the strong interaction, or even gravity."

And God hesitated saying, "Well, I haven't decided about that yet. I'm not sure I want gravity to be quantized, you know? Seems to take some of the geometric elegance out of general relativity."

And now it was Zephaniel's turn to sigh, and he bowed his head. "As you wish, O Possessor of Authority of Decisions and Judgement."

[life-in-a-monospace-typeface]

The Shibari Game

At a conference/festival last year, there was a Shibari workshop on the schedule for some reason, although the topic of the event was prediction markets. This led to the following exchange (all names changed):

Adam (who at the time was basically a stranger to me): Hmm, "Shibari"... What is that, some kind of Jewish ritual?

Me: No, it's-

Barbara: EVERYONE SHUT UP! Ok. Nobody tell this man what shibari is.

Everyone: ...?

Barbara: We’re playing 20 questions.

Thus began what was by far the best game of 20 questions I have ever witnessed. There were... appreciably more than 20 questions.

[literally ten minutes of questions later]

Adam: Ok, so! Shibari... is a Japanese social export, it's an activity somebody does, it's in some way artistic, it does not involve drawing, it does not involve writing, it involves an inorganic object and an organic object, and... the organic object is a human, right?

Everyone: Right

Adam: And the inorganic object...

Barbara: Well...

Chris: The inanimate object

Adam: The inanimate object, which, oh, which is organic, which suggests that it's clothes... Is the inanimate object clothing?

Everyone: No

Me: To clarify, the inanimate object is always organic in terms of 'organic chemistry', but might or might not be, like, made from biological material

Adam: Ok. And so, you have an inanimate object, and you have a person... The person does not have to do anything during the... shibari activity. You are doing a manipulation to the inanimate object, with the person, for purposes that are fun... Is it for the entertainment of a group?

Barbara: Could be? ...

Adam: So it could be for the entertainment of a group, but it could be for the entertainment of the individuals?

Everyone: Right

Adam: Ok. The inanimate object - the equipment - right? It is not specialised, but is a common object, correct?

Everyone: yeah

AI

Adam: Does it have anything at all to do with AI?

Everyone: [laughter] No

Adam: I had to check. In this setting, everything turns back to AI at some point

Me: I would say no

Frank: Not yet!

Me: Right, not yet. But yeah, 'No' is definitely the answer to that one

George: I trust Rob Miles on this

Barbara: As an expert in shibari?

Frank: As an expert in AI Shibari. I think that's what it's called.

Chris: Oh, yeah it kind of is!

Can one shibari by accident?

Adam: Ok. Is it something that one might do without knowing that it is shibari?

Everyone: [cacophony of disagreement]

Me: Interesting question!

Frank: Very interesting question.

Barbara: It's totally plausible that someone would do something that would qualify as shibari without knowing the Japanese artform

Me: Yeah, and they might also have seen things about it but not know the name of it

Chatting during shibari

Adam: Does it involve talking?

Everyone: No, not necessarily

Adam: God Dammit. Agh, I thought it might be... talking using some prop or something

Barbara: For me it always involves talking, but it's...

Adam: One doesn't have to?

Barbara: It's just 'cause I don't stop talking

[laughter]

Adam: And it doesn't involve betting markets in any way?

Everyone: No

How technologically advanced is shibari equipment?

Adam: Ok. Is the object technologically difficult to make?

Everyone: No

One guy: Yes

Everyone: What? No it isn't!

Adam: Is it only available in an industrialised economy?

Everyone: No

That one guy again: Yes!

Everyone: NO!!!

The guy: No, you're right, I'm sorry... But it is difficult to make

George: Every object is difficult to make!

Barbara: Maybe you're confused about what shibari is

Ed: Yeah, you should be up there with Adam

Adam: Would it have been available before industrialisation?

Everyone: Yes!

Adam: Ok. Um... is it a stick?

Everyone: It's not a stick

No cheap tricks allowed

Adam: I feel like I'm gonna get close to covering everything...

Me: I feel like we were very close just now, when you were like "Well what could this object be?"

Adam: Ok so the object is important. It's... before industrialisation... Does it begin with a letter before-

Everyone: No, no, we're not doing that. N/A

Adam: Ok so it starts with an N and an A...

[laughter]

What is this dang object?

Adam: Ok... so... is the object artificially pigmented?

Everyone: Can be, but not necessarily

Adam: Is it commonly painted?

Everyone: No

Adam: Is it commonly dyed?

Everyone: Yes

Adam: Ok, is it something that it's very common to dye in other purposes?

Everyone: Yeah

Adam: Does it involve a vegetable, of some kind?

Everyone: ...No?

Adam: Does it involve a plant?

Everyone: [confusion about what 'involve' means]

George: The object can have... some relation to a plant

Me: eehhh, that's more confusing than helpful. We already said that it can be biologically derived

Adam: But it would have been available before industrialisation?

Everyone: Yeah

Adam: So it's got to be something that is... around. Is it something that requires human modification to make into the form we know and love?

Everyone: Yes

Adam: Uh.. does this processing require specialised skill?

Everyone: Yeah, some skill for sure

Adam: Would I be able to do it? Like, without training?

Everyone: Probably not

Ed: On a long enough time horizon you'd figure it out, but the answer is basically no

Adam: Like, you throw me in with the tools to make it and say "come out in an hour", could I...

Everyone: No, probably not

Adam: But other people would be able to make it in an hour?

Everyone: Yeah, with the right skills

It’s not a weapon

Adam: Does it involve a weapon of any kind?

Everyone: No.

George: How creative are you allowed to-

Everyone: The answer's no

What shape is the object?

[long pause]

Adam: Well... does anyone else have any questions?

Barbara: You're asking such good questions though!

Ed: Yeah you're doing a good job

Danielle: I think you should ask more questions about the shape of the object

Everyone: Oh, great suggestion

Adam: Ok, is it spherical?

Everyone: No

Adam: Is it cylindrical?

Everyone: Yyeeaahh, sort of, yeah.

Adam: So it's not a pure cylinder but it's cylindrical-ish?

Everyone: Yeah

Adam: Is it an ovaloid?

Everyone: No.

Adam: Is it an ellipsoid?

Everyone: No

Adam: Is it uh... hmm... But it's longer than it is wide?

Everyone: Yes!!!

[scattered applause, we're close now]

Adam: Is it a plank of wood?

Everyone: No!!!

Barbara: It still isn't that!

Frank: No, his previous guess was stick

Adam: Yeah, a plank of wood requires processing and I couldn't make it... like it fits a lot of the other questions

Barbara: No you're right, that's fair, I'm convinced. It is a plank of wood.

Where is the object?

Adam: Could I find it inside a building or outside a building?

Everyone: Yes...

Adam: Wait. I mean. Ok, can you find it in a bathroom?

Everyone: Not really

Adam: Can you find it in a kitchen?

Everyone: Probably not

Adam: Can you find it lying on the ground?

Everyone: Yeah possibly

Adam: Is it something that people commonly use?

Everyone: Yeah

Adam: Is it something that people would pick up if they saw it lying there?

Everyone: Nah

It’s really not a weapon

Adam: Is it something that is dangerous at all?

Everyone: Can be, but not especially

Adam: Is any part of it sharp?

Everyone: No

Adam: Can any part of it fragment?

Everyone: [???]

Adam: Like, is it brittle?

Everyone: No

Adam: So it's firm?

Everyone: No

Adam: Is it flexible?

Everyone: Yes!!

Adam: Ok! Is it a pool noodle?

Everyone: [laughter]

Adam: Which is cylindrical, flexible, and organic, dyed but not painted...

Everyone: No, we're so proud of you, you're doing great

Me: But we did say "pre-industrial"

Pinning down the object

Adam: Ok ok. Is it a solid?

Everyone: Yes

Adam: Is it any of the solid hybrids, like a colloid or a gel?

Everyone: No

Adam: Does it retain its shape after being bent?

Everyone: Uh... yes?

Adam: So it doesn't spring back with any force?

Everyone: No, it doesn't spring back

Adam: Ok... so... Is it Japanese in origin, or is it found around the world?

Everyone: [assorted contradictory statements]

Me: The origin of the practice is Japan, but the origin of the object is all over

Adam: Is the object put on a person?

Everyone: Yes!

Adam: Is the object... um... is the object rope?

Everyone: YES!!

[scattered applause]

Me: The object is rope!

Adam: Ok!

Me: Now bring it home

Bringing it home?

Adam: Are things hung upon the rope?

Everyone: Uuuuummmmmm. Ambiguous? No.

Adam: Is the rope itself... does the rope look good?

Everyone: Yes!

Adam: Ok! Is this putting-on... a mark of esteem?

Everyone: No?? ???

[laughter]

Adam: So the object is a rope, and you're putting the rope on somebody

Everyone: Yes!

Adam: You're... putting rope on somebody!

Everyone: Yeah!

Adam: Is that... is that not the practice?

Everyone: No, no, it is, it is!

[confused cheering. Are we done?]

We’re not done

Chris: But, no, come on, there's more to it!

Ed: You're missing something critical!

Chris: You're so close!

Adam: Ok. Do you... hang someone?

Everyone: [strongly conflicting opinions]

Barbara: Only if you're doing it extremely wrong

Adam: Ok. But you can tie knots?

Everyone: YES!

Adam: Ok! Do you tie... is it a bracelet of some-

Everyone: No!

Adam: So it's not an adornment of any kind...

Everyone: Well...

Where on the body?

Adam: Is it put on your neck?

Chris: No

Danielle: Well, can be...

Adam: On your head?

Everyone: Can be

Adam: On a limb?

Everyone: Yeah

Adam: It's on a limb

Me: Not exclusively

Adam: On an arm?

Everyone: Can be

Adam: On a leg?

Everyone: Can be

Adam: On... uh... I've run out of limbs...

What does it mean?

Adam: Ok, it's rope, you put it on somebody, it's Japanese in origin... does it... signify something?

Everyone: Not really

Adam: Hmm. Do you tie the rope in a loop?

Everyone: ...Yeah??

Adam: I'm wondering, is it the casting of ropes upon people, like uh...

Chris: It's not a lasso, no

Frank: I like the idea of shibari as, like, a carnival game...

Barbara: I'm unclear on what the win condition is here...

Ed: I feel like there is a really important component that we haven't got yet

Everyone: Yeah, when he gets that component, he’s won

Are people into shibari?

Adam: Hmm... Did you find yourself fired by enthusiasm to do it upon being told about it?

Several people: Yes

Me: Personally no, but...

[laughter]

Adam: So it has mixed appeal?

Barbara: That is absolutely correct

Can one shibari... too hard?

Adam: Is it um, does it involve the tying of knots?

Everyone: YES

Adam: Ok. Are there knots that are peculiar to shibari?

Everyone: yeah

Adam: Is the learning of knots, or the tying of knots upon other people the important part?

Everyone: Uh... yes?

Adam: Do you tie someone up and they attempt to escape?

Everyone: Uh, not necessarily, but like, often.

Me: Yes is closer than no, I think

Adam: Ok, you tie rope on someone. Do you have to use some sort of special rope for it? Can you use any rope?

Barbara: You can use any rope, but some are better than others

Adam: So you wouldn't want to use any rough ropes, or...

Danielle: No, you do, that's actually preferred

Adam: You prefer rough ropes?

Chris: Some do

Frank: It depends

Danielle: Natural fibers tend to be rougher

Adam: Does it chafe?

Danielle: It can, but ideally not

Adam: Would you do it even if you were injured in the process of doing it?

Frank: No

Barbara: You would not want that to happen generally

Adam: Uh... Does it look cool?

Everyone: Yes!!

Origami?

Adam: So you're tying knots that look cool... is it like an origami for knots?

Everyone: [confused disagreement]

Ed: It's not about the knots

Chris: It's totally about the knots!

Frank: It's all about the cones...

Adam: Like, in origami you fold paper in ways that look cool, maybe you tie knots in ways that look cool?

Everyone: [loud disagreement]

Diagnosing the problem

[long long pause]

Chris: Ask the question in your heart!

Adam: ...Neckties?

Everyone: No?

Barbara: I keep thinking "But, he already has it", and then he asks a question that makes me say "No, he doesn't have it at all"

Frank: I think there's a question you want to ask, but you're not...

Everyone: Yeah

Chris: Yeah, ask the question that you don't want to ask

Danielle: I don't think he has the question...

Adam: Would it cause any gratification in someone?

Everyone: Yes!

Adam: Would it... Would it cause sexual gratification?

Everyone: Yes!!

Adam: Is it a practice... under the category of kink?

Everyone: Yes!!!

Adam: Is it tying somebody up for bondage purposes?

Everyone: YEAH!!! [Pandemonium, hollering, applause, Adam is lifted above the cheering crowd]

After the hearty congratulations were done, I wandered off, elated from the experience, and I bumped into a group of friends.

"Friends!" I said, "I just had the funniest experience. This guy didn't know what 'shibari' was, so we-"

"Shibari?" a friend interjected, "What is that, like, a Jewish building?"

"OK EVERYONE SHUT UP" I said.

[fishstikart]

I somewhat vividly imagine things. My partner has learned that I’m a fox. Now they refer to my tail and paws when I’m just living my life. I’m not used to it.

[tpwrtrmnky]

Need a game that's actually built around tanking as the main combat style. Not a game where you can, strictly speaking, build a character as a tank.

A game where the systems are built from the ground up assuming that you, the player, will be putting yourself in front of world-ending threats, standing up straight, and blocking the enemy.

Not dodge-rolling, not skipping around going "tee hee hee i'm a lil guy you can't hit", blocking.

And not as a disappointing alternative to a damage build!

[tpwrtrmnky]

Need the CLANG of the enemy's attacks against armor, need clear sound and UI design that communicates "here's how much damage you DIDN'T take, you absolute badass", need a little gaggle of frail party members trembling in fear behind me as the extreme aura farming of walking up to a dragon and putting my entire shield in its mouth inspires them to fight on.

[tpwrtrmnky]

Also the player character should be a huge woman who's into women.

[lucystellakitsune]

#also add an ultimate-bar that fills up as you mitigate damage #when it's full, your party unleashes a super powerful attack fuelled by the power of sapphic

[tpwrtrmnky]

Need a game that's actually built around tanking as the main combat style. Not a game where you can, strictly speaking, build a character as a tank.

A game where the systems are built from the ground up assuming that you, the player, will be putting yourself in front of world-ending threats, standing up straight, and blocking the enemy.

Not dodge-rolling, not skipping around going "tee hee hee i'm a lil guy you can't hit", blocking.

And not as a disappointing alternative to a damage build!

[tpwrtrmnky]

Need the CLANG of the enemy's attacks against armor, need clear sound and UI design that communicates "here's how much damage you DIDN'T take, you absolute badass", need a little gaggle of frail party members trembling in fear behind me as the extreme aura farming of walking up to a dragon and putting my entire shield in its mouth inspires them to fight on.

[tpwrtrmnky]

Also the player character should be a huge woman who's into women.

[tpwrtrmnky]

#last edition important too#between battles should be a lesbian dating sim

Bonding more strongly with your polycule of cute DPS and healers makes your brave words of encouragement in battle act as a stronger performance multiplier, increasing attack and spellcasting speeds. Blocking a really big attack makes them go "I have to do my best too, she's counting on me!!" and unleash extra strong spells so you'll be proud of them.

[eilidh-the-gynoid]

Its very important that your character laughs when She blocks that big hit, not only is she willing to defend her polycule with her life, but she relishes the thrill of being the bastion that she is.

Also, she does carry a sword or something but not because she realy needs it, it's solely for the purpose of taunting her enemies by tapping it against the rim of her shield to draw aggro.

[tpwrtrmnky]

Hear me out: skill tree where you use a huge sword to block instead, like death knights in WoW or similar two-hander tank classes. Still none of that dodging nonsense of course, dodging is just letting the attack hit something else than you.

[tpwrtrmnky]

Like there are a lot of ways to tank here:

Extreme Stamina Tanking: You take the damage unblocked and then survive it anyway because you've just got THAT much willpower. You can go to negative HP and still be standing.

The vampire tank: You're not dying because you're draining the enemy's life force

The Classic Knight

The Low HP High Parry tank: There is no fucking way you should be surviving and yet. AND YET.

Like if you're doing a Tanking Game you've gotta include a variety of ways to tank

[ladymoonblessed]

Might I suggest Barrier Spellsword Tank as an unlock once one of the adorable support casters starts teaching you that kind of magic because she worries?

[tpwrtrmnky]

Secret route where the player character dies and the timid mage takes up the mantle of barrier spellsword tank

[swagophile]

If they made a fantasy slop manga about me it would be called "Cute Dragon Just Wants To Be A Boss Monster!" and it'd be about me being a giant powerful dragon who's about to have a big final boss moment only for The Goddess (beaitiful babe with huge boobs) to turn me into an anime girl with horns at the last minute and I'm taken in by a scrappy group of adventurers who definitely weren't supposed to survive my encounter as they teach me all about their world and how to be a person and all the while I'm all pouty and bratty about it and demanding to be turned back into a boss monster while also being really excited about human things like big feasts (recurring theme) and cool armor and fancy stuff I can't afford and I have to begrudgingly team up with the humans to defeat the dark lord despite originally being aligned with her when I was a boss monster. AND There's yuri

[swagophile]

Do you think they'd call me dragon-chan. Do you think I'd be best girl. Please. I need this.

[swagophile]

Oh. my god. Oh my god oh my godddddd. You are all legally obligated to call me this now. Oh my god. YES. YESSSS. THATS SO GOOD TYSM

[lumsel]

I'm kind of at a point where the "queer spaces" i feel safest in are the ones that have a pet cishet dude or two hanging around

[lumsel]

When a space cares a lot about making sure its members are queer enough to participate, you get a space that aggressively polices the queerness of its members. There's no way around that, it's pretty much tautologically true. Only by paradoxically not actually caring if you're queer or not can a group really accept the full range of what queerness can look like.

[grison-in-space]

Also, a space that has room for a cis straight guy who means well and wants the best for his friends has two crucial things going for it.

1) it has space for people who are learning and might fuck up a bit while they figure things out, and that learning process is probably not so godawful and unpleasant that a guy with other prospects would have to be a fool not to go find some nicer friends. This is nice because it is very difficult to personally embody the entire alphabet at once, and learning how to be good allies to one another is a crucial part of queer solidarity. It's nice for that process not to be painful.

2) it has space for people who aren't yet willing to or comfortable with presenting an externally queer label to continue to exist and soak up the queer vibes and information, which means it's welcoming to actual questioning people rather than the theory of questioning people. Probably it therefore has more interest in actually doing things rather than hierarchy politics.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

3) it's probably not a radfem tar pit interested in weaponising you against people they've decided to hate in a social smear war that benefits nobody and nothing but their need for a power trip

[elodieunderglass]

Oh it’s even more than that! The cis straight guy is very often a ride home, dad or husband. Or a Bob which I will explain in this essay is a signifier of a healthy ecosystem, like frogs are.

This is a 3 am take so consider this a blanket apology and a readmore but if you hate this post you were warned.

If he’s someone’s ride home, then his presence enables queer people to show up. Note this importance in, say, rural America or where the person might use a wheelchair or need care or can’t drive. Or where the meeting place is generally awkward.

If he’s someone’s dad, his presence enables kids to show up. I know a 5 year old trans kid in real life. I know a nonbinary teen in real life who’s allowed to do a lot on their own, but their parents worry, and if they’re hanging out with adults the parents want to attend and meet the adults. Teenagers are so liminal with this.

If he’s someone’s husband, that’s a perfectly common accessory for a bisexual, nonbinary, or trans person. I think it adds a delightful dimension to queer spaces. I think it’s great that there’s a whole class of sexuality that’s “bi wife energy” or “straight except for loving this person” or “straight since I think nonbinary people are considered a different gender to my own - actually I’m completely lost about whether that’s true but we’ve been married ten years?” or “straight except for the fact that my partner transitioned, and we’re still married, and it’s none of your business.” At this point they’re so common that they’re their own subspecies. I think all spaces should have a slightly bewildered guy in his late forties who owns a set of good screwdrivers. I am bi and have one myself; it is a common pairing. “Why would your husband come to your social thing” idk this is a genuine thing people do sometimes in non-tar-pit spaces. They stop by. It’s almost like birds. You meet this incredible ornate, splendid older queer person and then they introduce their husband Professor Robert “Bob” Kevinsworth, who’s just this extremely straight old big fat Linux geologist in a 90s t-shirt with a trout on it, they’ve been married 45 years. Evolutionary pressures mean that the Bob must be relatively drab in order to camouflage themselves on the nest or something; if you want to attract the flashy half of the couple to your garden, then you have to provide habitat for Bob. idk it’s 3:46 am right now. But it’s like frogs; the presence of Bobs indicates a healthy and established ecosystem, like Grison and Derin indicate. Because frogs, who absorb environmental toxins readily through their skin, are an indicator species for pollution and biodiversity; a Bob means there is going to be less toxicity and more diversity.

[And also it’s none of our business but there are an awful lot of queer Bobs (Bob himself, again, possibly being queer) and it’s really none of our business. Sure, maybe that person looks like a straight grandpa. A lot of people do/did. I have always hated the idea that you can “spot” a queer person by their haircut, clothes or youth (largely because I don’t look very unusual or amazing myself.) the oldest nb person I know is a sort of Bob with a big white beard and grandchildren, and I’m sorry but at their age they are NOT going to be getting a different haircut! Let alone pink Shein dungarees and black circle sunglasses to signify their queerness to gatekeepers. A lot of people seeing them would assume they are cishet. Nope! Just old, fat and unfashionable.)

So a space that doesn’t have room for a cishet guy is a space that has made decisions about children, non-drivers, a large proportion of bi and nonbinary people, straight trans women, dads, and so on.

Which is fine in itself I suppose, but what they’re clearly kinda selecting for is a population of able twentysomethings who can all have sex with each other. and the thing is that there’s often a vibe they feel annoyed by seeing people they don’t want to fuck (children, middle-aged people, unfashionable queer people, people unironically wearing trout t shirts).

So in my admittedly highly limited personal experience, the exclusionary “queer spaces” just tend to be an elaborate drama-production exercise for twentysomethings to date each other, the rituals are intricate etc.

And all the rest of the weird queer people are just. at the seed swap.

[polar-biscuit-deactivated202603]

franka didnt pull a prank on anyone today, good for her!

[lilyblisslys]

I like this Stardew mod where it makes Abigail a lesbian. It doesn’t change anything except she is no longer romancable if you’re playing as a boy. As a boy, I think it adds more realism to the experience.

I say this with kindness and gentleness in my heart: if you’re sincere you should do some thinking about whether you’d enjoy the effects of estrogen

[licoricewhipit]

Okay. 30something nerdy magical girl otaku is lamenting wasting his youth being too cowardly to do things like crossdress in the costumes and go to meetups when he was small enough and cute enough to get away with it.

While job searching after getting fired from a job, he gets hired by a shady "Magical Goddess" to manage magical girls, complete with him getting a lil' critter form.

He decides to live vicariously through the girls, being extremely sweet and parental and putting his all into helping them with their individual personal issues alongside the lead girl to unlock their true potential.

Eventually, the badguy catches the girls and just when he's desperate to save them, it turns out to be a magical girl show where the mascot gets to transform and she turns into a magical woman and suddenly realizes some things about her gender and her long held desire to be a magical girl.

[licoricewhipit]

In the course of being essentially a replacement parent to the main girl, the manager discovers the girl's mom is an overworked single mother trying to juggle too much. She starts helping plan meals and laying out and ironing the mom's clothes because the main girl is well meaning, but too clumsy to do it well alone. Eventually they reveal the truth to the mom and kinda end up in a weird magical lesbian situationship.

[kitsunemechagirl]

Paladin picks up a cursed sword with the intention of purifying it and in the heat of battle loses his holy blade so he has to use the cursed one. They dread the effects of the curse but instead, they feel fine. They can think clearer now actually. The tide immediately turns in their favor even as their chestplate cracks and falls away from a vicious strike.

By the time the dust settles they're panting heavily and has their voice always sounded like that? They must be exhausted because every noise they make sounds lighter yet their torso feels heavier and off balance somehow. They drop to their knees and look down at the sword, chining softly like an angel's song, not some horrid whispering thing like the job said.

Then she notices her suddenly longer hair fall out of the front of her helmet, the way her thighs are a bit bigger and hips a little wider. Her chest... gods, when did she have breasts? Her voice really was higher. *Her* voice. *Her* breasts. She was... happy now. She felt stronger, somehow. She'd never be able to explain this to the rest of the order and yet... she didn't care.

She was finally free of that self-hatred that once drove her holy vengeance. She smiled, finally seeing her face in the sword's reflection. She sheathed the blade, picking up the cracked pieces of armor, and started off towards town. And she knew peace.

[super-ion]

> be me

> bump into a drunk wizard on the subway and she curses me

> find out the next morning that I'm transforming into a catgirl

> track down the wizard and confront her about transforming me into a catgirl

> she is very confused because she definitely turned me into a catboy

> ask her why I feel like a girl then

> well fuck

[heron-knight]

ACT I: INFERNO

it was still dark when I woke up-- hard to tell what time what with the lights of the city, and the clock on my alarm hasn't worked for months. late fall, with that kind of crisp, clear air that doesn't have any fog to mute the neon glow from all sides outside the window. chilly on a night like this.

I think that's why the first thing I noticed was just how damn sweaty I was.

the old shirt I'd slept in-- the one I'd worn the day before as well as the three consecutive days before then-- was soaked completely through until even the sheets beneath me were drenched. not exactly comfortable, but the familiar sensation of damp fabric sticking to my skin was notably absent. I wouldn't notice that until later, though.

It was late-- or maybe early, at that point-- and with work tomorrow, I'd usually have gone right back to sleep. doesn't matter how overheated I am, sleep is too valuable a resource to waste even a second of past the momentary effort of peeling off my shirt and tossing it with the others on the floor. that's what I intended to do, at least up until I made the mistake of moving my body.

it hurt. the sudden and all-consuming agony shot from each nerve in my arm the second I moved it and pulsed through every cell for who knows how long until eventually, it partially faded. partially. it didn't feel broken-- not that I could have snapped my arm and not noticed until I woke up, but there weren't many plausible explanations for why it hurt that much. no, it was more like... a muscle cramp kicked up to eleven. like each part of my arm was twisting and collapsing in on itself. I screamed, I think-- in too much pain to notice the slight change in how the sound felt as it tore itself out of my throat. screams hadn't felt like that before.

my arm fell limply back down to the sweat-soaked mattress, the active pain gradually fading to a more passive ache. I stared at the ceiling for a bit-- my eyes couldn't focus on it yet. that moment of hellish agony had shredded my cognitive function for a second, and my eyes were still too full of tears to really see much. it wasn't too dark, though-- I could tell that much. I could feel the stiffness in every other muscle in my body, the tension in each limb ready to snap shut around my nerves the second I tried moving them. I knew better at this point than to try.

fuck.

I gripped the fragments of my train of thought and wrenched them back to coherence. I needed to do something.

I'm alone. phone's out of reach, not that I have anyone to call. it hurts. oh fuck it hurts. I have to do something though. I can't stay like this. I'm overheated already and its only getting worse. why the hell is it so hot.

focus.

it hurts but its not injured. its just pain. a whole fucking lot of pain but its just pain. one finger. move one finger. I can do this.

I twitched one of the fingers on my other hand-- the one I hadn't moved yet. it sucked, as expected. not as bad as when I'd moved my arm, but not exactly fun. it wasn't as intense, though-- and faded faster than it had for the arm.

good. I did it. I'm okay. okay enough at least. good. keep going. good girl.

I jolted slightly at that last thought, inviting another full-body wave of mild agony. why had I thought that? why was that how I had chosen to motivate myself in that split-second decision?

and more importantly, why had it worked?

it felt nice. pleasantly intense in its warmth in a way that I definitely wouldn't have expected to feel so good. almost enough to partially drown out the pain. I wasn't sure exactly why it had sprung to mind-- I could worry about that later. the feeling of it, though-- of thinking it. if saying it to myself-- it was hard to define at that point, that way that the statement felt more real than anything I'd felt before. I turned it over in my mind, tilting each of its two words at every angle, taking in the flavor of how it felt to hear. I said it to myself a few times.

good girl. good girl. good girl.

damn, that felt nice. nice in a way I hadn't experienced before even without hearing it in more than just in my head. I had to really hear it. I had to truly say it to myself with my own voice. I flexed the muscles in my face-- they hurt too. why did my teeth hurt? I inhaled slowly once the pain had mostly diffused, then spoke slowly. clearly. feeling each movement of my tongue as I said the words.

"good girl." I whispered to myself. I shuddered again as my heart began to pound. damn. that's... effective. should I look into that?why's that work? I mean' I'm not... I'm... I'm not.... I shifted my weight absentmindedly, which was a bad idea. my train of though was once again derailed and my capabilities were momentarily limited to the production of a soft whimper.

for a moment, the constant but discordant noises of the streets below were the only sound that could be heard.

...right? I'm not...

I would have thought about it then if I hadn't realized that I'd heard my words through the top of my head instead of the sides. I flexed the muscles there-- muscles that I hadn't had before-- and my ears twitched.

the ears that sat on the top of my head.

events from the previous day surged through my head-- my commute, just like any other day. the train, just as crowded and smelly as all the ones I'd taken before, and the familiar lurch as it sped forward. I remembered the bundle of robes I'd stumbled backwards into-- the soft, startled yelp as the person beneath it spun around, slightly wobbly and smelling of cheap vodka. an exclamation... was that really what it had been? in a language that I didn't understand.... and a flash of light that had left my eyes blurry and my muscles and bones unusually sore. A hasty apology in a high, accented voice and a card tucked into the the pocket of... the Walgreens uniform-clad stranger next to me. slowly, I flexed the remaining still-sore muscles until eventually I was able to move.

my legs ached as I put weight on them, leaning forward before eventually managing to stand. something swished in the air behind me as I rose, and I spun to see nothing there.

once more, I inhaled, feeling the last twinges of soreness as my lungs expanded as I slowly reached up to my head. somehow, I knew what I would find even before my fingers made contact.

ears. soft, triangular ears firmly affixed to the top of my head. they twitched as I ran my hand along them and I could feel them do so because they were mine. the discovery of them wasn't why I gasped, though-- that was from the sensation. it was intense. electric. warm in a way that spread out from them the moment I felt my hand against them almost enough to melt away the soreness. I traced it as it melted through me, soaking into each nerve-- I ran my fingers down to the back of my neck, pressing gently into the muscles. the skin of my hand was soft.

I sighed. It felt right. it felt correct. like it was all falling into place. I could feel the texture of my fur as I slid my hand around my back, running it along my tail and sending a euphoric shiver all the way up my spine to the base of my skull that left me momentarily lightheaded.

I could still feel the ache in just about every muscle, the deep discomfort in each of my bones-- I needed to break through it, and I knew I could. the motion found its way into my mind until carrying it out became an obligation. who was I to resist it?

who am I now, anyway?

deep breaths. in. out. in. you're going to enjoy this, aren't you? I held my hands in front of me for a moment, clearly seeing the fur that coated them almost entirely but for the soft pads across the palms despite the darkness of the room. with a final exhale, I laced my fingers together and stretched with everything I had.

oh fuck oh fuck oh fuckkkkk.....hhhhh...

the sensation in every muscle, every joint, every single part of me both new and mostly unchanged was beyond what I had ever considered within their capacity for feeling before, flooding my brain with far to much information to ever process. I could feel myself let out a soft, high-pitched sound with each pop of each joint, a gradual cascade at first when all that stretched was my arms that ignited into a torrent as it reached my tail. I couldn't think anymore-- couldn't analyze. couldn't read into what it meant or what I had thought up until now nothing was allowed to mean-- all possible cognition was simply smothered in the overwhelming wave of sensation as my legs trembled for a second, then collapsed entirely and I fell forward onto the bed, my eyes starting to water. I lay there for a moment, face down on the sweat-soaked bed, taking a moment to recover from the experience I'd just had. no thinking for me now. no chances to lie to myself anymore. only the lingering sensation remained-- that, and what my instinct told me to say to myself.

"...ghhh..." I tried to focus on it. words. how did those work again?

"...good...girl..." I could taste the truth to the words. the absoluteness to them. every aspect of the statement and just how much I needed it all to be true because nothing was going to stop it from doing so. absoluteness was all there was to the first coherent thought that found itself back to my conscious mind.

so I'm a catgirl now.

I laughed at the simplicity of it. an accidental curse from an intoxicated spellcaster, as far as I could tell. quite a stroke of fortune. I spun over, staring at the ceiling for another moment before sitting up and stumbling across the piles of old clothes to the bathroom, my head swimming with the desire to see the extent of the shift. grinning, I swung open the door and flicked on the lights.

I felt my throat start to close up as everything came crashing down in that single moment when, just thirty seconds after I first felt alive, I died inside once more. there were changes-- heavy ones, of course. the ears, the tail, the fur just about everywhere from the neck down-- but all I could see, all I could feel-- it wasn't even the pain at this point. not even the feeling of my claws digging into my palms as my hands clenched-- it wasn't all the things that had changed that I saw staring back at me.

instead, the man in the mirror was nothing but a sudden and crushing realization of the things that hadn't.

it hurt. more than the cramps as I'd woken up. more than the soreness everywhere. more than anything I'd known so far. I could feel the pain building in my throat into despair until finally, I dropped to my knees with a sob and fell onto my side, the warmth of my body soaking out into the cold tile floor.

PART I OF III

[heron-knight]

ACT II: PURGATORIO

the train was much emptier than it usually was when I rode it-- not that I was exactly surprised, as at the moment it was almost the middle of the day. the morning rush had come and gone and lunchtime would not be for another hour and a half, giving me a pleasant window of silence as I stood, staring out the window at the dark tunnel wall rushing by. I'd been standing far too long-- my joints were starting to ache and my circulation had never been great. still, sitting down had proved a bit uncomfortable with my tail tucked into the back of my jacket.

despite the fact that the season was by no means warm, it was still far too hot for the outfit I'd for some reason chosen to wear. the thick wool hat folded my ears down uncomfortably and it appeared that wearing a heavy jacket when you already have a fur coat is not the best idea, especially when inside. I chuckled slightly, then coughed in slight hope that that wasn't actually what my voice sounded like. no such luck. I'd called in sick without providing explanation, and it would be just the perfect bit of poetic irony if my unusual activities that day had resulted in me falling unconscious with heatstroke. I sighed. as far as sounds I could make go, that was the one that I felt the least disgust when I made.

there were, by my research, six different Walgreens that the bystander who had received the wizard's card yesterday could have been going to. I'd been to two. two trips, and it was already starting to wear on me. my legs hurt, my fur was soaked with sweat once more, and talking to two stores worth of employees had been much higher than my usual daily limit for interaction. still, I went on-- and I was reminded why I had to every time I saw my reflection in the window and had to do my best to to break down sobbing on the train. it felt wrong-- wrong in a way that would almost be better if I couldn't comprehend it but unfortunately, I could. I could see every part of me that I hated, and I knew I couldn't go back home until I could find the person who would do something about it. I tried to focus instead on how uncomfortably hot everything was.

I had stared at every piece of clothing I owned for almost five minutes that morning. my whole wardrobe, spread out across the floor and stacked neatly on my desk and bed for me to see with my new eyes and it disgusted me. it's hard to describe the pure contempt I felt as I looked even at the shirt I had worn the previous day. they didn't fit me anymore-- well, they did, but not in any way that mattered. everything was either too baggy or too tight, each shirt telling me that there was nothing for it to hide in its own unique and tortuous way. as such, I'd opted for the heaviest clothes I could find-- if they covered up even what parts I liked, then so be it. had that been a mistake? maybe. I'd never dealt with a curse before.

I lurched forward as the train screeched to a halt, its doors sliding open and depositing me onto a near-empty platform. I exited hastily and pulled my jacket tighter around me as I walked, trying not to make eye contact with what few commuters occupied the area. my eyes lingered momentarily on a rat, scampering across the cold concrete of the floor with a piece of who knows what its its mouth-- a second or so later, I continued up the stairs somewhat embarrassed at just how difficult it had been to tear my gaze from it.

"yeah, man, I got no clue what your talking about." the employee said. I recoiled slightly, then replied softly.

"do... do you know if--"

"what?"

"I said, does anyone here--"

"dude, speak up." I sighed, then responded at full volume feeling each word claw its way out of my throat like something slimy and many-legged.

"Does anyone here know anything about it? a card? from a wizard on the subway? was the person that got it someone that works here?"

the employee thought for a moment, then replied. "I could ask around. back in a second!" he said with a grin, then disappeared into some back room or another. I stumbled around a bit before finding a chair to collapse into.

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, sliding an earbud back into my ear for whatever hint of momentary distraction I could get and hitting shuffle on the first playlist I saw.

now that I know what I'm without

you can just leave me

breath into me and make me real

bring

me

to life

"FUCK!" I shouted, tearing the earbud out and tossing it aside, only realizing my mistake once it had rolled completely out of sight. gripping my face with my hands I willed myself not to start crying again. not here. not in the middle of this damn Walgreens. keep moving. keep moving forward. breathe because the alternative doesn't offer any chance for improvement. look ahead. move forward. don't wait. no more waiting anymore. good.

good girl.

that seemed to work. it always did. always something I could fall back on. the only thing I knew was true. the only fucking axiom this curse had to it. I repeated it to myself again and again until both parts of it stopped sounding like words, then a little bit more until finally, I heard a voice from in front of where I sat staring at the floor.

"Daryl said you were looking for this?" she was clearly an employee as well, but somehow, despite the obvious uniform, that was the second thing I noticed. it was her hair, I think-- that was what I saw first. it had a greenish tint to it much too faint but uniform to be any sort of dye but for some reason plenty noticeable. A dark purple card with gold lettering was held between two fingers of her outstretched hand, the words on it shimmering faintly in what little rays of light made it to where I sat from the distant windows. I glanced up at it for a moment, then my hand shot forward and snatched it with a speed that I hadn't thought myself capable of before. "..oh. I guess so. Its yours, then." she said, smiling slightly in a way that didn't feel condescending. "I've got no need for it, and I'm pretty sure that girl with the robes gave it to me by mistake. I'm glad you were able to find it." I scanned its contents fast enough that I had to read it a second time.

Iosefka the violet

Official wizard of the area from Cedar St to Lucien Allen Park

302 Haberdasher St, apartment #105

I leapt from my chair, stumbling slightly and scrambling to find sufficient purchase on the smooth tiles to sprint to the door. before I could, though, I heard her speak again.

"wait!" she shouted. as I turned, I saw her hand slightly reaching out as if contemplating whether to stop me or not. her hair caught the light in a way that made its slight hue more noticeable, as well as the way that it matched her eyes. "you... I mean, I can..." I stopped and turned fully, half-leaning against a shelf until her words stopped fumbling. "you've been enchanted, haven't you?" I flinched, staring down at myself as I asked if it was really that obvious.

"No! not at all-- that's not... she inhaled sharply, shaking her head from side to side for a moment before gesturing to her hair. "my nan was Soraline the Lime-- small-town enchantress from a while back, you wouldn't've heard of her. anyway, she had the third sight, and I got a bit of it. anyway, I-- I wanted to make sure you knew that the hard part's over." I looked at her sideways, feeling my ears twitch beneath my hat.

"what?"

"you can see the cage and you have the key-- that's the hard part. all you need to do now is move forward. good luck--" she was silent for a moment. "sorry, didn't catch your name. what is it?" I flinched as its syllables crawled into my consciousness. they felt sharp in my throat-- sharp and bitter in a way that overwhelmed my with a sudden fear at the idea that they would ever reach my lips. I froze-- staring blankly for a moment as I gripped the name that I hated and forced it back down. I could feel it, sitting in my throat. it tasted like a lie that I'd forced everyone to tell me without knowing it. I didn't want to do that to someone else-- to make them try to care about someone that never existed.

"I don't know." I coughed.

"then I hope you find one on your way there. Good luck, miss."

that last word sunk in like sunlight on my skin. for just a moment, I could feel my eyes light up like they had the night before-- before I'd gone to look in the mirror. one moment, and that was enough for what determination I had to ignite.

I ran to the door, squinting in the midday sun as I fumbled around in my many pockets for my phone and punched in the address. a two-hour walk from where I was--

If I was willing to follow the route.

cursing, I tore off my jacket and began to sprint, letting the wind in my face serve as a sufficient distraction for me to not think about looking down. no more waiting. I had somewhere to go now. I had a way forward. a way out of this cage. a way It could finally stop hurting and I could for once be alive. ahead, an enormous garage loomed between me and my shortcut. I didn't turn.

it was chilly inside-- the concrete soaking up what little bits of warmth found their way into the shade of the colossal structure. my fur kept me plenty warm as I dashed upward past the rows of parked cars, climbing higher and higher towards the light above. my legs were screaming at me to stop. to rest. to slow down at the very least-- but if my body was one that would betray me so agonizingly as to be one that was not my own, I felt disinclined to obey it. almost there. almost there. it hurt-- fuck, it hurt. my lungs felt like they were on fire as I ascended through who knows how many layers of that garage and I could feel myself continuing to overheat until I was on the verge of passing out. still, I kept moving forward because where the fuck else would I go? home? I had no home. no name. no self. if I couldn't find the person who could save me from that curse, what was even the point? as such, I kept climbing until finally after what could have been thirty seconds and could have been an hour, I could feel the open air against my face.

collapsing against the wall on the edge of the roof, I glanced at my phone again then out over the city. my destination was within view, but hours away in a city designed for cars instead of people. instead, I'd opted to do this. was it a stupid idea? yes. would it kill me? probably. would it be a risk worth taking? hell yes. trying my best to catch my breath, I pulled myself to my feet and let my eyes drift between each nearby building. too tall, too far down, too far away... perfect. on the other side of a five-foot alley, an office building sat just ten feet or so shorter than the garage I stood on. not far from that, another building seemed similarly ideal. I made my way over to the edge closest to it and stared down at the alley eight stories below me. landing on my feet wouldn't do me much good there, I thought to myself. if I failed, death was certain. if I succeeded, it would only be ten or so minutes to the place where I would finally become able to live.

with one final stretch I took a deep breath-- then a running start, and a leap of faith.

I landed softly enough that I almost didn't feel the impact, rolling slightly on the roof of the other building and springing to my feet just before realizing exactly how stupid what I had just done had been. oh well. nowhere to go but forward. that wasn't necessarily true. I could have gone down. it's just that I'd rather have taken the fastest route there than have given up now. with another sprint and a well-placed leap that I definitely would not have been capable of the day before, I continued to make my way across the skyline, feeling the wind in my hair with each jump as I flew from roof to roof. after just a few minutes, I returned once more to the ground floor right across the street from 302 Haberdasher exhausted but filled with more adrenaline than I'd ever been before. it was a small building as far as apartments in this part of the city went, only four or so floors. compared to the ten or more of every other building around it. it was nice, in a way-- pleasantly out of the way of the noise of the city despite its position so close to the center of it. I stared up at it momentarily as I crossed, then took a slow breath before stepping through the door.

PART II OF III

[heron-knight]

PART III: PARIDISIO

this building's lobby was much more decorated then that of mine-- by no means glamorous, but containing a nice selection of various plants all strewn about from the door to the elevator in every shade of green interrupted only by the occasional deep purple flower of a species that I didn't recognize. there was a smell to the place that I found hard to put into words. Warm is how I'd probably describe it, but warmth isn't a scent. it smelled like dust in a sunbeam. besides that, the space was mostly unremarkable-- almost entirely empty of people as well, save for a few lingering around the plentiful windows that cast the whole space in a soft orange light. there was something to them, but I couldn't see at that distance and had no desire at this point to begin an interaction that I did not strictly need to. instead, I simply strode across to the elevator, taking somewhat of an arc to avoid walking by anyone. a woman in a dark, leopard-print jacket waved to me nonchalantly as I shuffled by. at least, I think that was a jacket.

I stood before the doors of the elevator, my reflection distorted by the dull metal surface into refreshing neutrality. this is it. I thought to myself as I reached out a trembling hand to the button. finally, this is it. the end to this whole fucking journey. this curse. with a soft chime, the doors slid open and I stepped forward. my shoes tapping softly against the carpet.

the second the doors closed I slumped against the side of the elevator, barely catching the handrail in my still trembling hand fast enough to stop myself from hitting the ground. another threshold crossed, I could feel it. I could smell it in the air that I was one step closer, and all I felt now was... tired.

I was tired. fuck, I was tired. torn from everything I thought I knew through some random act of fortune and forced to drag myself across this damn city on four hours of sleep when all I wanted to do was rest just for a moment. I couldn't do that, though. I couldn't stop moving because if I did that then I'd start thinking and I was afraid of what that would do to me now. it had just-- It had just hurt. it had hurt so fucking much to see myself in the mirror that night and when I stopped moving that memory was all I could think about. every single detail. every single part of me that had always been there but now I knew enough to know that I hated. I could feel it in the back of my head. In the back of my throat. that face, that name, that self. lodged in my mind like a knife in my gut and with every step I didn't take I could feel it fester. I could feel it rotting inside me and until I could reach into my wounds and tear it out, pull that rot from the shell I'd become and cast it aside, it would just keep getting worse with each second of stagnation and oh fuck it hurt.

I could taste something slightly salty in the corner of my mouth, running down my face and diffusing against my tongue in a barely noticeable burst of salinity. it caught me off guard slightly, and I reached up to my face to discover that I was crying.

I could feel the sob start to build in my throat, trying desperately to hold it back as I glanced around in momentary panic before realizing somehow for the first time that there was nobody in the elevator with me. catching my composure for just a half-second, I took a long, slow breath, feeling it begin to quiver at the apex of the inhalation until finally, I released it and felt a pained whimper escape me before breaking down entirely.

my body shook with each heavy sob as I slid down the wall of the elevator to the soft carpet of this floor, curling up and gripping my knees with enough force that I could feel them starting to bruise as tears soaked into my sweatpants. before too long they had soaked through. I wasn't exactly quiet-- I wasn't exactly able to stop either. who gives a fuck if someone heard me at this point. I was tired. give me this. if nothing else then give me a chance to cry because if I don't have that then all I have is pain with no chance to admit that to myself. I could admit it now, though. I could let myself and who knows, maybe this whole damn building know just how much it hurt. how tired I was. how alone-- I stopped for a second, my frantic breath shuddering to a momentary standstill.

oh fuck, I'm alone.

I let the despair build this time, surging upwards in unregulated intensity as I pressed my face into my knees again, slumping onto my side and letting my pain run down my face and soak into the floor.

after who knows how long, the doors slid open once more-- giving me a view through blurry eyes of the hallway before me. slowly, I stood-- and stumbled over the threshold once more.

I wasn't sure what exactly it was that kept me going as I limped down the hallway, the soreness in my feet after eight hours of standing and walking now agonizingly apparent. I just kept moving forward because what the hell else would I do. because if I died now then I'd have died as nothing having always been nothing. maybe it was spite. maybe it was fear. perhaps it was even hope-- it didn't matter now. I just kept walking until I stood before the door to apartment #302. My face expressionless, I reached out a hand towards the door.

it opened before I even had a chance to knock.

I stood there in the open doorway-- my hair a mess, my shirt still the sweat-soaked rag I had been wearing since yesterday and sticking uncomfortably to my fur-- my face still soaked with tears that hadn't even had a minute to dry. at that point, it took all I had even to keep standing. to keep my eyes open as I stared down at the oversized hat below me.

"Oh! oh! it is you! come in, come in! you must be tired." the hat tilted upward, revealing a face that could only belong to Iosefka the Violet.

I've never considered myself particularly tall, but the wizard was much shorter than me by at least a foot, her and her hat combined still barely coming up to my nose. her age was impossible to guess, as was the exact origin of her accent which I had at first assumed would be Russian, but seemed to wander all over Europe and then some with each sentence. not much besides her face was visible what with the bundle of robes that covered almost her entire body-- her face and what bits of her short purple hair stuck out from beneath her hat. she tilted her head playfully in a way that made it swoosh through the air. "you are safe here, do not worry! you are hurt and I can help!" a hand emerged from the robes, which she held out to me. I took it, and let her lead me into the apartment.

to say it was cluttered would be an understatement-- but still, not entirely accurate. it wasn't chaotic, this nest of shelves and sofas-- the countless items strewn about were not so in any kind of way that suggested that the space was unkempt. my eyes failed to focus on anything in particular what with the sheer volume of stuff that was there. the wizard led me across the room to a space by the window, motioning for me to sit in a large armchair that stood in the center of an heavy sunbeam-- a suggestion that I accepted so intensely that Iosefka stumbled before falling flat on her face as I landed heavily in the chair, the agony of my legs finally beginning to dull. I curled up, hugging my knees for a second before working up the energy to prop myself up on one elbow. my host leapt softly back to her feet and grinned.

"so you're--" I managed, coughing the lingering tightness out of my throat. "I suppose you'd be--"

"Iosefka!" she chirped, smiling warmly as she spoke with a slight hop for emphasis. "Iosefka the Violet, my dear! not a bit less, not a bit more. I am Iosefka, and Iosefka I have always been! I am so, so glad you have found my. I tried to scry for you, but I have always been a bit pants at that. Minerva will soon give up on lending her crystals to me, but it matters not for you have found me already! she scampered over, patting me a few times on the head. "very good! very good!" she slid her hand down to the side of my face for a moment, wiping away the remaining tears. her expression softened slightly to one that seemed more contemplative. "I am sorry. truly, I am. I should not have ridden the train when I was like that. I had been out with Minerva the Ecru and Vanessa the Cerulean for so, so long that night so when someone bumped into me..." she gritted her teeth, then snapped her fingers and the empty air behind her. "Poof! you are catboy. I am--" she stopped when she noticed me flinch. her face darkening as she saw something around my head that I couldn't.

"I--" I stammered, sitting up and tightening once more into a ball. "I'm not-- you didn't do that. you-- you turned me into a catgirl. I can feel it. it's just--" she hopped onto the chair and reached out slowly. I didn't stop her as she placed her hands on the sides of my face and pressed her forehead against mine, her voice softening to a calming warmth.

"no." she said. "no, I did not. I know the spells I cast--" I felt the tightness build in my throat again. no. not after all this. don't let it be fake. don't let me die as nothing.

"then why?" I whimpered, wrapping my arms around her and gripping tightly. "why can I feel it? it's here and it hurts because you turned me into something that this body doesn't belong to anymore." she sighed, reaching up and plucking off my hat. my ears sprung upwards now that they weren't pressed down, and she ran her hand along them.

"you feel it because it is true." she said. "it was not my spell that did it, though. she took a step back, perching on the end of my knee. "I did not turn a man into a catgirl" she said. "I did not turn a man into anything. I simply added cat--" she reached out a hand again and tapped my sternum. "--to girl." my heart skipped a beat.

I was silent for a moment, my face expressionless. one of my ears twitched. Iosefka grinned, hopping down from the chair before spinning back to face me.

"perhaps we'd like some tea."

I sat at the kitchen counter, a cup of something that didn't taste like any kind of tea I'd had before radiating its warmth into my hands as I gripped it tightly, my shoulders wrapped in a heavy blanket that Iosefka had apparently been gifted by the Archmagus of Vermont, Ysabella the Amber. it felt warm specifically in the way that warmth feels in the winter when you've come in from the cold.

"and in summary--" Iosefka continued, "that's you! That is what you are, and why you feel like this! I am surprised you never learned of such things yet, especially in a state such as this. Ysabella tries to ensure that the wisdom of it is available to all her people, but I suppose every place has its dark corners. you were not from here, I suppose?"

"yeah," I said, taking another sip and feeling it melt away the tightness in my throat. "from Nebraska. my family moved here just a few years before I turned eighteen, and I left them as soon as I could."

"Oh, my poor darling!" she rushed over across the counter, reaching out far enough that she began to wobble and patting me on the head, running her fingers through my hair and along my ears. "your survival is nothing short of a Miracle. no matter-- you are safe now, and now you know what you are."

"anyway, that doesn't explain why I only noticed it once the spell took effect." Iosefka thought for a moment.

"hmmm.... aha!" she exclaimed. "magic-- it does not lend itself to a single metaphor, yes? I have heard it explained as electricity, as water-- my favorite, however, was as all the many types of radiation." I blinked.

"and?"

"well--" she continued, grinning maniacally-- "do you know what happens when eggs are put into microwaves?"

the room was silent for a moment, then we both laughed.

"soo.... now what?" I asked, my tail flicking through the air behind me. "do I like... ask a pharmacy? any pharmacy? is it over the counter in Vermont? the... what did you call it? how much does it cost?"

Iosefka looked at me sideways, then laughed. "Ohoho... you forget to what manner of being you are speaking to, then?" she chuckled, her hair glowing slightly in the afternoon light. I raised my cup of tea to my lips again, then stopped when I realized a large, purple flower had sprouted from it. "stand up for a moment, dear-- whenever you are ready, we may begin."

I stood in the center of the floor, Iosefka pacing around me for a moment before finally, she stopped and stood before me. I had no idea what she was looking for-- what part of whatever energy signature I had she was staring at. my heart was pounding with barely-concealed excitement.

"hmmm...." she looked at me from a number of angles. "HMMMM..." she leaned forward until she was just inches away from me-- then suddenly, she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her face against my stomach. I flinched. "ohohoho! So soft! so soft!" I heard her say, the words muffled by my fur. "so lovely. such a canvas you were that such a sudden, accidental spell could turn out so well with such lovely results. I know a crow who loves such things-- I must introduce you two." I stared down at her for a second, then gripped her beneath her arms and lifted her off the ground, holding her in front of me at arms length. she grinned, the front of her cloak covered in shed hair. "apologies, but I simply had to. you understand, yes?" I was somewhat embarrassed to admit that I did. "now we can begin. take a seat, and we will discuss what you desire for yourself."

I set her down, then flopped backwards into the armchair I'd sat in before. Iosefka sat on the floor, and just like that we discussed. we talked for a while-- not sure how long, but long enough that i didn't even notice as it got dark-- about voice, shape, proportions-- everything I desired and everything that Iosefka could sculpt. I described what my body was screaming at me-- what it told me to let it become. I tried and failed not to turn red as the discussion turned to questions of preferred depth and position on an "overall sensitivity index" that the wizard council had apparently spent the better part of a century developing. apparently, my request was one that had been common throughout the ages, and so they'd found ways to streamline the questioning process. it was a long conversation-- but I loved every part of it. that finally, after all this time, I would get to choose what I would become. to see fate for the sham that it was and shatter it once and for all.

"I think we are done, then-- just one more thing." Iosefka paced in circles around my chair, a nearly-full notebook clutched in her hands. She snapped is shut, then spun to face me. “A name. You will need one.” The mention of names should have brought the one I was cursed with to the front of my mind and the back of my throat. It should have brought all the pain of stagnation, forcing me to remember every part of me that held me down. It didn’t, though— instead, there was something else. Something new. Something that, for once, felt right.

to be honest, I couldn't tell you where the name that was mine came from-- who might have had it, where I might have heard it-- any deeper meaning or symbolism or etymological context-- if there was any, then I didn't know it. I didn't need to because all that this name was to me as it bloomed in the back of my mind and surged forward to fill every part of my consciousness-- all it needed to be-- was mine. there were no legends under it. no namesakes. no heroes for me to wear this name as a legacy of. all it is to me is all that I am. I knew it because it was mine, and saying it felt more natural than breathing as I told her. my name, my self-- and even in a voice that was not yet my own I could feel how true it was.

Iosefka smiled, folding the notebook to the first page and holding it out to me. gingerly, I took it. it wasn't a page, really-- just the inside of the cover.

If Found, Please Return To _________

I flipped through it for a second-- descriptions, diagrams, specifications-- every page of it was me. every word. I took a deep breath, purring slightly on the exhale, then signed it with a flourish and tossed it back to her.

I lay on the sofa, my hands resting at my sides as my chest rose and fell slowly despite how fast my heart was racing.my tail had been tucked safely behind a cushion to stop it from twitching from the excitement. Iosefka scurried about, gathering her various implements, tools, and an electric kettle full of a thick, viscous-looking pinkish solution that she stirred for a second with a small bone of some kind before dropping the notebook into it and shaking it vigorously. most of my clothes sat in a pile nearby.

"you will need to be asleep for most of this, I am afraid." she said, leaning over me as much as she could as the sofa was taller than she was and scratching between my ears. "you should expect to be a little sore again when you wake up, but nothing too bad as this time I am mostly sober. expect... let's see, it has been quite some time since I have done one of these-- you should not run very fast for a few weeks or so, or lift anything too heavy." she listed, spinning what looked like a roll of tape around her finger before tossing it onto the coffee table with her other instruments and hopping up onto the couch, leaning back against my side in a way that would likely have been uncomfortable had she not weighed roughly as much as a large rabbit. "I am sculpting brand-new organs for you from raw conjured stem cells, so please be gentle with them. simple shifted fat should have no such problems so poke those parts as your heart desires. you should however expect a very, very significant level of discharge for the first few--" she went on for a while. not sure how long, but I was listening for all of it-- not because I was worried. not because I wanted to know every single thing that could go wrong but because throughout it all, I was acutely aware to an extent I'd never experienced before that it was my body being described. I could feel it-- I could visualize every single thing she said would happen. I could imagine how each twinge of soreness and comforting tightness of a new organ filling a space that had once been hollow would be because I knew that every part described was already mine-- it just hadn't been given to me yet. the anticipation was damn near paralytic, my fascination just barely eclipsing my desire to beg her to get started already.

"you must go under soon, darling--" she chirped, hopping off the couch and retrieving the kettle of what were apparently stem cells, reaching in and fishing the notebook out of the slime. the color was gone from it, and on some level I knew that the words had soaked out as well-- dissolved into the half-gallon or so of pure potential that the wizard held in her hand. "but I can give you one more thing to take with you as you sleep. it may not be comfortable at first, but I would like you to have it if you so desire. consider it my gift. do you accept?" slowly, she reached out a hand to me, the nails sparkling in the soft light-- and gently ran a single finger along my throat from my collarbone to the base of my chin. I understood instantly-- and from her grin, I could see that she knew I understood.

"what should I say?" I asked. "when it's done?"

"something that you say to yourself."

It didn't hurt-- I'm not sure if I expected it to, but it didn't. it was supposed to, probably, but my surgeon was a wizard. all I felt was a light, numb pressure as her nail slid along my skin for a second before sinking in, my flesh shifting out of her way at the slightest nudge until eventually, she found what she was looking for. I still felt like I was breathing, which was odd what with the hole in my throat.

I could feel the pressure reach my larynx, light at first before intensifying and then finally, shifting. moving. traveling. never intense enough to be called painful as the mechanisms of my voice warped like clay in her hands but always pleasantly tangible, like the snap as a puzzle piece slides into place. I felt the dynamics of it as they changed, the implications of resonance as she pressed at the base of my chin-- my internal voice changing somehow with my physical one. eventually, she finished, and I felt that it was complete even before she removed her hand and I glanced at it to see that there was no blood.

"all done." she murmured, running the hand up along the side of my face before letting it come to rest between my ears. it was warm-- warm enough that I could feel it even through my hair. electric, almost. Iosefka breathed in, her cloak bundle puffing up slightly-- and with a slow exhale, a gentle pulse of exhaustion melted through me as my fingertips began to numb. my eyes fluttered slightly, coming to rest half-open just before her hand slid down to cover them. with another breath, she said my name to me and the warmth began to soak uniformly into every part of my body as I lay there. "you have done so well already." she said. "more than anything that should ever be asked of someone, and it hurt so, so much. I could see it-- I saw it from the moment you walked in but now-- now I do not see that. I do not see simply nothing but pain. I do not see one who moves forward simply because there is nothing to lose. you are more than that, now-- you have made yourself more and now nothing may take that from you." my vision started to blur, my breathing slowing to a barely noticeable rise and fall as my hands, my feet, and my tail all melted away into formless warmth. "you did it. you survived, and more than that you have learned to live. learned what it is to live. cast into your own little hell, you have clambered out of it and now here you are. you have done something harder than many could make it though alive and made it out intact enough to watch the sunrise. you are wonderful in a thousand different ways, and what do we say to one as wonderful as you?"

the world began to melt away as I sunk into the soft embrace of unconsciousness, lights and sounds all blurring together and fading into warm static save for two words-- a single phrase with all the meaning in the world. I felt every movement of my lungs, my throat, my tongue-- the motion of my lips as I shaped the words from all that I was and cast it into the air, letting it drift down and sink into me as everything else melted away. my ears twitched slightly as they heard the sound of the first thing I'd ever said to myself that had been true.

it was my voice. my words. the core of all that I was-- flowing over a larynx that no longer distorted it and resonating through the air finally unshackled, produced by a body that was finally, after everything, worth living with. my body. my flesh. my home. you did it. you made it out. you saw what was in front of you and you kept moving forward. you have done so, so well--

"Good Girl."

I awoke to the texture of familiar sheets, to the soft neon glow from the world outside my window-- to a beautiful pattern of soft but noticeable aches across my body, already starting to fade by the time I opened my eyes. slowly, I stretched out an arm to the ceiling-- watching the formless blur slowly focus into the shape of a hand. my hand. the hand of the woman that I was rather than the mass of pain and fear I would have died as. sighing in a voice already more familiar to me than the one I'd had for decades before, I lowered my hand and pressed it to my chest, feeling the slow gentle pulse of my heart echo through a softness that told me that I was no longer a lie to myself-- feeling the acceleration of my heartbeat at the sensation as I stretched, arching my back with the intoxicating euphoria as my hands slid across every part of me that reminded me that I was alive now, each touch electric even through my fur. every part that reminded me that after so much pain, so much fear, so much longing-- despite everything. it was finally me. that at last, I'd woken up and it had all been okay, opening my eyes to see that I'd become what I'd always needed to be.

slowly. I rose-- the sheets sliding off of me as I stepped onto the floor of my room, striding unafraid towards the place where my heart had died twenty hours earlier. the feeling of the cool air against my fur was nothing short of perfection. I did not hesitate as my hand gripped the doorknob-- I had always known what I would see in the mirror as I opened the door, only this time, I would finally see it.

the face I saw in that mirror as I stood where I'd lay sobbing the night before-- the face that smiled back at me, tired but euphoric beyond any possible metric she could have ever imagined-- that let a tear start to roll down her face as she looked down at the body she'd gone through hell for because nothing could have prepared her for just how good it would feel to have it and just how worth it it had been-- the face I saw in the mirror could not in a million years have been anything but me.

finally, for once in my life, it was me.

I reached out a hand and pressed it against the glass, gazing into the mirror at everything I was, all I had become-- perfect in all the ways that I was-- feeling the light on my fur and my heart pounding in my chest as behind me, the sun began to rise over the city.

PART III: PARIDISIO:

END<3

[sapphling]

monogamous people are constantly like "i can't believe this, how could she violate my trust like this???" and the aforementioned "trust" is like. "i trust that you will devote your body and mind solely to me and construct your sociosexual life solely based off my explicit permission without making any unapproved connections or forming any unapproved desires regardless of the absence of material impact on me because i conceptualize you largely as a convenience object and it scares me when you exhibit signs of autonomy or discrete personhood ❤️"

[lucystellakitsune]

So apparently I've been using Tumblr wrong and you're supposed to scream into the void and get angry when it answers

[jamdrawers]

Just boys being boys.

[lucystellakitsune]

You ever remember that for some people it's a chore to tell their partner they love them and just be confused about how that's a thing?

Like not to be a sappy sapphic, but there's not a lot of things I love more than telling my girlfriends that and how much I love them

[lucystellakitsune]

Okay hear me out: Super tall strong dommy mommy goddess who folds into a blushy mess the second someone calls her pretty